once state that the greater part of what follows is a matter of
history, well known to many living persons; and that in writing it down
I wish it to be understood that I am submitting to the judgment of
humanity a strange case which actually occurred within this century,
rather than constructing from my own imagination a mere romance for the
delectation of such as will take the trouble to read it.




CHAPTER III


'Oh! Is it not too delightful to see my dear, dear cousins!' screamed
Frau von Greifenstein, throwing herself into the arms of the pale and
quiet baroness. 'And dear Hilda, too! Ach, ist es nicht herzig! Is it
not too sweet!'

She was wonderfully arrayed in an exceedingly youthful costume, short
enough to display her thin, elderly ankles, and adorned with many
flying ribbands and furbelows. An impossibly high garden hat crowned
her faded head, allowing certain rather unattached-looking ringlets of
colourless blonde hair to stray about her cheeks. She made one think of
a butterfly, no longer young, but attempting to keep up the illusions
of spring. Hilda and her mother smiled and returned the salutation in
their quiet way.

'And how have you been at Sigmundskron?' continued the sprightly lady.
'Do you know? It would be my dream to live at Sigmundskron! So
romantic, so solitary, so deliciously poetic! It is no wonder that you